All and every impulse of this nation, arcs towards him having no business being there.

The Negro is a “Democrat.”

Non-Negro “Democrats,” running for office in 2014, they vowed that—fuck!shit!—they had never really even heard of The Negro.

Several times, these non-Negro Democrats, while running for office, they refused, yea verily, even unto three times, like Peter denying The Christ, to say they had even voted for The Negro.

The non-Negro “Democrats,” running for office in 2014, they had no vision.

They simply positioned themselves as people who had poked out only one and a half of their eyes. Rather than both their eyes. As had the “Republicans.”

The non-Negro “Democrats,” they swore they had never heard of The Negro; or, if they had, they knew him, but loved him not.

Rather, than, as the Republicans, ceaselessly calling—like baying hounds, pausing in their pursuing exuberance only to loudly and lustily lick their own genitals—for The Negro’s tarring, feathering, castration, execution, public burning, and interment, beneath the bones of Robert E. Lee.

In the days and weeks before the 2014 election, the Republicans, they ceaselessly beat the drum, the drum that ebola-ridden eye-bleeding Negroes projectile-vomiting out of Africa were insidiously intentionally ululating in child-immigration waves over the border from Mexico to smear their feces into the precious bodily fluids of paleface Americans so as to better run utterly wild as cannabis-crazed mountainous Michael Brown gun-grabbing thugs to ISIL lop off the heads of all the goddam white people.

The non-Negro “Democrats”: to this, they said nothing.

They were beaten like a gong, last night, the non-Negro “Democrats.” From sea to shining sea.